


Saplings

by PhenixFleur



Series: Dipper's Guide to Dating a Dream Demon [6]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Human Bill Cipher, M/M, This is a terrible idea, adult Dipper, handwavey magibabble, magic babies, probably crack played straight, triangle dad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-06-06
Packaged: 2018-03-26 15:17:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3855415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhenixFleur/pseuds/PhenixFleur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dipper's pretty sure that he and Bill would make terrible parents. Bill doesn't agree with this assessment and begins the ill-advised process of talking him into it. Magic babies ensue. M-rating's for eventual chapters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The 'B' Word

**Author's Note:**

> ...about this one. It's set after everything else in the series, and I probably won't be updating it until some of the other entries are finished. Originally posted on Tumblr, but I forgot to tag it and actually lost it for awhile, so I'm preemptively posting it here. : )

It was sometime during his fifth year of living full-time in a dilapidated tourist trap in the woods with his old swindler of a grand uncle and his longterm boyfriend that just happened to be an often morally-challenged dream demon that the oddity of Dipper Pines’ life jumped up a notch. Not that it had ever really decreased, but the frequency of dealing with various paranormal occurrences, monsters, incensed customers and regularly making out with a guy that invaded his dreams and made them a little more interesting eventually lulled him into a false sense of security. It had taken at least two years, several fights, and two or three near-death experiences to convince Stan that Bill wasn’t attempting to use him for nefarious purposes and legitimately cared about him, followed by another six months and an explosion to convince him to let the demon live there with them; finally things had settled down into considerably less tense cohabitation and Dipper was content to let it stay that way. 

Apparently Bill wasn’t, because one warm spring afternoon while Dipper was poring over some notes about something he’d found in the woods the demon remarked, far too casually for the words that followed, “We should have a baby, Pine Tree.”

Dipper’s pen made a hole in the sheet of paper he was scribbling on, leaving a dash of ink on his desk. “What?”

“We should-”

“No, I heard you the first time.” Dipper turned around to stare at his significant other; Bill was lounging on the bed reading a magazine balanced precariously over his head. He did a double take when he noticed the title. ‘Parenting’, in bold pink lettering. “What?”

Golden eyes glanced in his direction, glittering with mirth. “Isn’t that a thing humans do when they’re in long-term relationships? Reproduce and yield more spawn to overrun the planet?”

“Not everyone has kids,” Dipper huffed. “And why do you want one, anyway? I thought you hated humans.”

“Hate’s such a strong word!” He may have been used to it by now, but Dipper couldn’t help gasping when he found himself lifting from his chair, ferried across the room in a luminous blue cloud and dumped unceremoniously into the demon’s lap. “I never said that I hate you guys,” Bill said, stopping him from escaping by tugging him down with Dipper’s head resting against his chest. “I just think you’re stupid.”

“Gee, thanks!” Dipper replied, sarcastically. 

“Present company excluded!" 

Dipper rolled his eyes; he was well aware of the fact that he was obviously exempt from any negative opinions the demon had about the rest of his species. Well, except for Mabel, but literally no one could hate Mabel. He sighed, closing his eyes and listening to the rhythmic heartbeat that somehow matched his own; he’d always wondered if it was intentional but he had yet to ask after all these years. "If…and this is purely hypothetical because it doesn’t even work from a biological standpoint, but  _if_  we had a…”

His brain caught up with his mouth, and Dipper sat up, ignoring Bill’s protests. “Why is this conversation happening? Why do  _you_  want a…” The word stayed fixed on his tongue, refusing to budge. 

Bill grinned up at him. “You seem to be having some trouble with that word.”

“I’m not!” Dipper sighed, taking a deep breath and starting again. “I just don’t understand why _you_  would want to have a…" 

"Baby,” the demon finished, drawing out the word as if Dipper was an idiot. “And I don’t want to  _just_  have a baby.” A note of sincerity crept into his voice, and  _damn it no he’s going to do the thing._  The characteristic grin faded into the expression the demon wore when he was being completely honest. “I want to have a baby with _you_ , Pine Tree.”

Dipper buried his face in his hands. “Don’t do that. I know what you’re doing, and I’m not falling for it this time.”

“Whatever do you mean?” Bill asked, innocently.

“You’re doing that thing with the words!” Dipper snapped, flailing internally. 

“Talking?" 

"You know what I mean! That thing with talking me into bad ideas.” Because in that moment, hearing those words and the unspoken affection in them, the prospect really didn’t seem so farfetched, especially if the demon wanted it so badly. The image of a smaller version of himself with Bill’s golden eyes popped into his head. It was an adorable mental image that refused to fade even after he shook his head. “Neither of us knows anything about kids." 

Bill scoffed at that notion. "What’s there to know? You feed 'em, teach 'em how to read minds, throw 'em a party after their first successful contract…it doesn’t sound nearly as hard as you’re making it out to be.”

“Wow,” Dipper deadpanned. “I’ve never seen someone prove me right as fast as you just did.”

He slipped off of the bed, heading back over to his desk and ignoring the “Is it because I left the thing about waste disposal out, right? I know all about that!”

“No,” he called back, willing the mental image from earlier to fade. It didn’t. 

“Aww..”

“Shut up!”

“But-”

“No.” 


	2. Both of Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote more of my self-indulgent domestic fluff, because that’s what happens when I’m stressed out! Definitely set after Imprinting, as there is a reference or two to Dipper’s imprint and the fact that Mabel and Pacifica are engaged, but aside from those details the story can stand alone. Also there’s a legitimate reason Bill’s so adamant about this, but that’s for later. :D

If he’d expected the conversation to be simply a confusing one-off (which happened with both Bill and himself on an alarmingly regular basis), Dipper was sorely mistaken; it became clear over the next few weeks that however the idea of reproduction had ended up lodged in Bill’s head it was there to stay, and he wasn’t planning to back down anytime soon.

No matter how many Parenting magazines Dipper threw away after finding them on his desk another appeared almost immediately. He couldn’t tell if the demon was stealing them or magically replicating them somehow, but he suspected the latter given that upon flipping through one of the issues there were some features that were definitely not a staple of such publications. He’d made it halfway through an article about teaching one’s toddler the basics of blood manipulation, poring over the text in revolted fascination before realizing he had an audience leering at him from across the room. Dipper threw the magazine at him, and missed by a mile, as usual.

He found himself fielding commentary extolling both of their virtues and how powerful those virtues would be combined into a single force of destruction - in those exact words, despite how often he informed Bill that using that kind of terminology wasn’t a good way to get his point across.

He wasn’t sure whether he was appreciative or utterly creeped out by how openly affectionate the demon became throughout that period, gazing at him with moony eyes and hanging on to him with  _just_  a little more possessive intensity than usual. The unnerving part wasn’t his behavior itself, but that there was an undertone of sincerity bordering on desperation that made it difficult to shake him off. Truth be told the mental image that had popped into his head the night Bill first proposed having a child somehow had never quite left, but his apprehension over the situation spoke louder than any latent desire he might have had to give in.

Dipper remained obstinate, assuming that if he said ‘no’ enough times the demon would lose interest eventually.

He really wasn’t expecting it when Bill took the conversation outside of the bedroom.

 

* * *

 

It began innocently, so much so that he failed to notice that there was an agenda to the statements Bill made in front of the rest of the family, especially Mabel whenever she dropped by to visit for a few days at a time. These usually coincided with Pacifica being out of town for various reasons; it occurred to Dipper at some point that Mabel probably wasn’t comfortable being at the manor without her fiancée.

The four of them were attending to the gift shop after a fairly profitable weekend full of tourists, restocking the shelves with the latest shipment of overpriced knickknacks, taking stock of what was selling well and what wasn’t, and organizing the cash drawer. The reduced hours to the Shack tours dispensed with the necessity of doing so as often, but Dipper didn’t mind. It reminded him of their first summers in with Stan and Soos and Wendy, before the triangle on his wrist became meaningful. Not that he would ever entertain the notion of regretting it, even when the demon was a complete, unmitigated ass, but it was nice to stroll down Memory Lane every one in awhile.

He didn’t think anything of it at first when, continuing to levitate merchandise onto shelves from where he lounged in midair, Bill piped up, casually, “You know what would make this place a lot more lively?”

The question was immediately followed by Mabel chiming in, blithely unaware of the private battle taking place between her brother and his stupid demon boyfriend. “A froyo bar.”

Bill paused, staring at her. It was clear that that wasn’t the answer he was expecting. Spurred on by his silence, Mabel soldiered on, seating herself gingerly on an unopened cardboard box. “Just hear me out. It’s all the fun of ice cream, but all the appeal of something marginally healthier than ice cream.” She met Stan’s gaze, winking at him. “And you can charge an arm and a leg for it.”

Dipper could practically see the proverbial dollar signs lighting up their grand uncle’s eyes. “Now that’s what I’m talking about! That’s not a bad idea. It’ll give the Shack a little class.”

“Grunkle Stan, are you trying to say we’re not classy?”

Stan scratched one of his armpits. “Was that a serious question?”

Dipper glanced up at Bill, smirking at him. “Great idea. I can really get behind that.”

The demon ignored him for the rest of the afternoon. 

After that incident Dipper expected his fervor to die down, but he continued to be mistaken. As if sensing that his sister was a potential ally in his campaign Bill went to work on her specifically, pointing out various babies whenever the three of them were out somewhere and making offhanded comments about how miniature flesh creatures weren’t all that bad. Dipper considered warning Mabel of the demon’s intentions, but either through her own intuition or slight tendency to have her attention diverted his sister did a wonderful job of treading the line between indulging Bill and not committing to his obvious ulterior motives. 

Then again, perhaps Mabel wasn’t as neutral on the subject as he thought. 

Dipper wandered into the living room one afternoon to find his twin sitting on the couch surrounded by balls of yarn in a variety of pastel colors, knitting away happily on a lengthy piece of cloth that looked suspiciously like a baby blanket.

“What are you working on?” Dipper asked, appropriately suspicious.

“A baby blanket.”

Dipper sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb in a universal gesture of frustration. “Why?”

Mabel shrugged, deftly switching to a soft powder blue with all the speed and efficiency of a machine. Dipper noticed that the wrappers on the unused balls of yarn were labeled with descriptors such as 'Softee Baby’, 'Baby Bee’ and other cloyingly sweet names. “I found a bunch of patterns on my bed, so I figured why not?  _Someone_  has to have a baby eventually, so I might as well be prepared.”

Dipper inspected one of the finished blankets. It was actually quite pretty, rendered by his sister’s skillful knitting needles. He reached over to run his hand over the fabric, soft beneath his fingertips. The mental image slipped back into his head, a tiny bundle with a head of chocolate brown curls and Bill’s eyes, wrapped in one of Mabel’s blankets.  _No._  He withdrew his hand swiftly, taking a step back as if the blanket was woven from barbed wire. Mabel smiled up at him, innocently. 

Dipper narrowed his eyes at her treachery. "Don’t count on it.“

As he turned to leave he heard her call out, sounding amused, "Whoever designed these  _really_  has a thing for triangles!" 

Mabel was definitely compromised, but he still had Stan on his side. His grand uncle seemed to know exactly what was going on, and he made a point of staying out of it. Dipper couldn’t tell if he was opposed to the idea, or if he simply didn’t care one way or the other. Thus far Bill had avoided approaching him on the subject, knowing good and damn well that Stan could see right through him. 

It all came to a head a couple of mornings later during breakfast with Bill and Stan (Mabel had returned to the Northwest-Pines manor the day before, leaving a pile of baby blankets that Dipper forced himself not to look at). Dipper usually enjoyed breakfast. It was a period of time when the two once-mortal enemies he loved with all his heart were able to dispense with any remaining tension they might have had in the name of enjoying pancakes that likely had a grey hair or two in them. 

This time he was just a little apprehensive. The demon had remained quiet and pensive the night before, which  _never_  happened. Bill didn’t do quiet, and he generally didn’t do pensive; when he’d fallen asleep with the demon’s arms wrapped around him Dipper realized that he actually looked pretty downcast. Whatever was going on was  _really_  bothering him, regardless of his inability to discuss it with Dipper like an adult - but would Dipper have listened anyway? 

And why was he so opposed to this?

Halfway through a stack of pancakes Bill lifted his head and looked Stan in the eye. "Aren’t you worried about kicking the bucket without any great grandchildren to leave this old fire hazard to?”

“No, he isn’t,” Dipper cut in, ready to fire back with a comment about how Bill himself was a fire hazard; Stan met his gaze long enough to shrug before returning to reading the paper. 

“Eh, that ship sailed a long time ago.”

Dipper turned to glare at him incredulously. “Wait, what?”

Stan folded the newspaper, setting it down beside his plate before continuing. “No adoption agency’s going to let you two even enter the building, and your sister’s got her hands full already." 

_Ouch_. Dipper rounded on his grand uncle, irritated. "Are you trying to say I couldn’t raise a kid without screwing it up? Not Bill. Bill is a lost cause.”

The demon kicked him under the table.

“There is no 'trying’, that’s what I’m actually saying.” Stan shook his head. “I wouldn’t even trust you kids with a puppy.”

“Seriously, Grunkle Stan?  _Seriously_?" 

"Maybe the old man’s right,” Bill sighed. “You’re pretty impatient, Pine Tree. And half the time you don’t take care of yourself well enough to take on taking care of something  _else_.”

“Bill, what the hell?” Dipper looked back and forth between his boyfriend and his grand uncle, unsure of who to turn his gradually building ire on first. “Why are you throwing me under the bus too? This was your idea in the first place!”

“Yeah, but I don’t know if you can handle it.”

The demon returned to his pancakes, leaving Dipper fuming for a few minutes before slamming his fist on the table. “Fine. Let’s do it.”

“Do what?” Bill asked, feigning ignorance. 

“The baby thing. Let’s do it.”

“Are you sure?” Bill sat up straight, regarding him thoughtfully. “Parenting  _is_  pretty hard.”

Dipper chewed on his lip, allowing himself to embrace the mental image that had been plaguing him for awhile. It would be both of them, a physical symbol of their bond. Perhaps that was what Bill had been getting at, all along. “We can handle it,” he said decisively. 

Bill threw himself at him, nearly knocking Dipper off his stool. “I knew you’d make the right decision if you thought about it long enough.”

It was then that Dipper realized that he’d wandered right into a trap. “Wait. Did you just…you did the thing, didn’t you? You  _asshole_.”

He also realized that Stan hadn’t said a word for a few minutes, watching them both intently. “You two are just going to  _make_  a child?”

Bill winked at him. “Yes.”

“You  _suck_ ,” Dipper groused, although he couldn’t hide the fact that he was smiling. Right up until Bill continued, cheerfully. 

“Not in the kitchen, Pine Tree!” He hooked his arm around Dipper’s waist, pulling him flush against his body. “Then again, it’s nice to see you becoming more adventurous." 

Stan picked up his newspaper and his pancakes and left the kitchen without another word. 

"Oh my God.” Dipper buried his reddened face in his hands. “Do you get off on scarring people?”

“Of course I do. Was that a serious question?”

 

* * *

 

Dipper paced around their bedroom, heart rate speeding out of control in an odd amalgamation of excitement and anxiety. Bill watched his trajectory, back and forth, from the door to the window, grinning like a cat with a canary between its paws. “Okay. Okay.  _If_  I agreed to this…hypothetically.”

“You already did!” Bill chimed. 

“ _Hypothetically._  How does this work? Like the actual conception part?” His eyes strayed to Bill’s lap for a brief moment before he forced himself to look away. “Neither of us has the-”

“Necessary reproductive equipment?”

“Yes. That.” Dipper raised an eyebrow. “Wait, do you?" 

Bill looked at him as if he was an idiot. "I’m rather fond of  _this_ form, Pine Tree. Also carrying a bundle of flesh and organs around for nine months straight isn’t something I can really get into. I think you’d handle it pretty well though.”

Dipper’s eye began to twitch. “…so that means…”

The demon laughed, floating over to Dipper and touching down on the carpet next to him. “Don’t look so freaked out! This isn’t some crazy story where I completely disregard meatbag biology and knock you up despite the lack of internal structures needed to sustain pregnancy!”

“Oh,  _good_ ,” Dipper replied, sarcastically. “That’s the only part I was concerned about.”

Bill continued on, as if he hadn’t heard the gibe. “There’s more than one way to make something. Or someone.”

_That_  caught Dipper’s attention. “I didn’t think you were capable of creating life.”

“Oh, I’m not.” The demon waved a hand dismissively. A glowing scroll shimmered into existence in front of Dipper’s face and unrolled itself, displaying its contents. The paper was covered in unfamiliar script and weathered around the edges, some of which were scorched black. The lettering gleamed electric blue against the brown parchment. The aura of magic wafting from the object assaulted his senses, making Dipper feel slightly lightheaded. It was clear that the spell inscribed within the scroll was extremely powerful. Bill plucked the scroll from where it floated in midair, examining it with a smug expression on his face. “That doesn’t mean you can’t assemble one.”

Dipper blinked, still in awe. “That…is a really complicated looking spell.”

“Molding soul energy into a corporeal being, 101!” Bill scanned the parchment, running his a finger over the script. Wherever his fingertips brushed against a symbol it gleamed a little more brightly. “All it takes is a little piece of your soul, a little piece of mine, mix 'em together during a difficult and physically taxing ritual involving a little blood and there you go! A mini-meatbag.”

Dipper shook his head in disbelief. “Man, it cannot be that easy to  _make_  a human being. This is how  _Frankenstein_ went down.”

“ _That_  was a actual hypothetical situation,” Bill pointed out. “Also that guy was a dumbass." 

He rolled up the scroll, which winked out of existence to be stored in whatever subspace pocket Bill kept certain things in. "The soul’s the hardest part. Creating a body isn’t impossible and can take very little effort with the right resources.” He gave Dipper a meaningful look. “Creating a new soul is incredibly difficult and while I hate to admit it, beyond me.”

“So they’ll be a blend of both of our souls?" 

"Somewhat. The new soul’s not a carbon copy of what we contribute, so it’ll be unique. Physically they’ll be a blend of our traits and features like a normal child would be.  _That’s_  where the blood comes in!”

Dipper paled, noting that the demon sounded particularly gleeful about that part. “Including your abilities?”

Bill shrugged. “Probably. Eventually. Yeah.”

“So we’re gonna have a kid that can enter our dreams, screw around with our memories, and possibly possess us." 

"Not if I teach them to use their power responsibly!” Bill latched onto him, resting his chin atop Dipper’s head. “You worry too much, Pine Tree.”

Dipper didn’t pull away; he leaned into the embrace, listening to the demon’s heartbeat again. “This isn’t just a project you can lose interest in,” he said quietly. “And it’s going to be really difficult. We’re going to be responsible for another life, Bill. You can’t just set things on fire when you get frustrated." 

Fingertips against his chin, tilting his head upwards to allow Dipper to gaze into the same beautiful golden eyes he’d pledged his heart to seven years ago, lying in a field of paopu flowers. "I just want to make something with you. Something that’s both of us.”

“I know,” Dipper conceded, reaching up to run his fingers through Bill’s hair. “I do too." 

He accepted one of the kisses that still left him breathless and dizzy and  _happy_ , returning it with an equal amount of passion, and further discussion ground to a halt for awhile. 

Later on, curled up in a satisfied stupor at his lover’s side and rapidly drifting off to sleep, Dipper murmured, almost inaudibly, "I hope we’re not really terrible parents.”

Bill snickered in the darkness beside him. “As long as they don’t end up summoning a demon in the woods after being rejected and almost causing the Apocalypse it’ll be fine.”

Dipper had to admit, he had a point. 

His eyes slipped shut, and everything began to dim save for the warm body pressed against his…

Then his eyes shot open, and Dipper sat straight up with a gasp. “What the hell am I going to tell  _my_  parents?”

“Lie.”

Dipper flopped back down on the pillow with a groan. “This. This is exactly why we’re going to be terrible parents, Bill.”

“I don’t see what the problem is, Pine Tree.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear! I wonder who Bill stole that from!
> 
> Also I jumped the gun and have written a few drabbles set in this continuity [here](http://bipolar-berry-crunch.tumblr.com/fanfics). Because magic babies are fun to write about. :3


End file.
